Insanity Incarnate
by MyWideEyes
Summary: One-Shot. When Jack's crew mutinys and maroons him on an island, he has only himself for company.


First story posted. Constructive criticism please. It hadn't been up two minutes when I realized that my French is horrible and I took it down to change it.

-------------------------

The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue and the sand sparkled in the sun. It seemed cruel how the weather seemed to mock him.

Jack Sparrow stood on the beach, trying to look as righteously angry as possible, as he watched a ship, his ship, sail into the horizon. His infamous crew of nefarious pirates had mutinied, and left him marooned on this little god-forsaken patch of sand.

"It wasn't even a proper mutiny!" Jack yelled at the shrinking ship on the horizon. A little bit of his brain knew they couldn't hear him, but it made him feel better pretending they could. Jack flopped down to sit on the warm sand and brood. "At least leave me a bottle of rum,"

"Not a proper mutiny you say? Those bastards!"

Jack looked up to see himself leaning against the nearest palm tree. He was wondering when they'd arrive. They always did.

"Even if they could hear you, it's not like they'd slip the ship around to get ye" said Jack. This one was lying on his back with his hat over his face to keep the sun off. "Just relax, have a bit of rum, what else have ye to do?"

"They didn't leave the rum" Jack said forlornly.

"No rum?!" Jack ripped the hat off his face a shot to his feet "Oi! Leave us some rum!" he yelled at the ocean.

"Did you know The Pearl's over there?" asked yet another Jack. This new incarnation of Captain Jack Sparrow's insanity was walking towards him out of the ocean, dressed in just a shirt and breeches.

The first Jack, who was still leaning against the tree, pulled out the pistol they had left him and shot the asker of such a ridiculous question. He turned back to the original Jack as the body splashed into the surf. "Get up you pitiful git and find us some rum," he said to the now very morose captain.

Jack ignored him muttering, "proper mutiny...not adhere to the Code... Barbossa ...no rum."

"RUM. NOW" demanded Jack.

"IT WASN"T A PROPER MUTINY!" shouted the real Jack, standing up to be face to face with the man yelling at him.

"And what, pray, defines a proper mutiny?" asked the second Jack

"Some warning would be nice" asked a newly arrived Jack Sparrow

Both arguing pirates looked at this new jack. He was wearing all of Jack's normal pirate garb except his dirty hair was sheared off at about ear's length.

"Bloody 'ell, what'd ye do with your hair?" asked Jack.

"Well, it was dirty and unmanageable" said short-haired Jack stiffly

"We're pirates, dirty and unmanageable is part of the job description." growled another, now hatless jack.

"You didn't have to mess up my-" Jack said, gesturing strangely about his own head

"Manly coiffure?"

"I wouldn't have called it that, but whatever floats you boat" said Jack.

"Speaking of which, does any of the present company have an idea how to get back to said floating boat?" asked Jack, sinking back to the ground.

"Any of ye have any rum?" The Jack that Jack shot earlier was back. Except now he was walking out of the ocean and was dripping sea water.

"NO, THERE'S NO RUM!" said the assembled company collectively.

This was apparently the last straw for the real, original, corporeal Jack, because he gathered his hat and pistol from the sand and stood to face his insanity incarnate. "Well, mates, you may be utterly obnoxious, drunk, and/or wet and fine with it, but I cannot take it anymore. Have a good life, goodbye." And with that he turned on his heel and strode purposefully down the beach.

"You're in denial!" shouted the hatless jack sparrow.

"It's a bad sign if you can't even stand yourself, Jackie!" added Jack from his seated position on the ground.

Jack hadn't gotten fifty feet down the beach when the sand gave way beneath him. His varied imaginings of himself all looked at one another and hurried to where Jack had disappeared and found themselves looking into a hole in the ground, with Jack at the bottom of it.

Jack hauled his head and shoulders above the hole and took a swig of the bottle clutched in his fist. "Drink up me hearties, yo ho," he said with a crooked smile.


End file.
